He already knew her name. But he thought that maintaining 'Cass' would make a bit more sense. The new timeline gave him a reason to call her Cassarah now. Calling her Cass felt a little too intimate. He recalled the moments of pleasure, the moment when two were one underneath a starry night. She called out his name, and he called out hers.

The name Cass reminded him too much of those times. Even when the images were long gone from his mind, he could imagine Cassarah's entire body, sans clothes, perfectly. And something else also rose when he thought of those times. Fortunately, the armour covered it.

Leneas took the lead immediately, mainly so that Cassarah couldn't see and comment on his beet-red covered face. Fortunately, the hovel his mother called a shop was barely a few seconds away.

"This way, Miss Cassarah." He paused for way too long when his mother's shop was in sight. Leneas began to think. He had a single year, before his demonic traits would manifest. He would only be humanity's last hope when they had lost everything else. He needed 3 things.

Power. He needed to become stronger. In combat and in magic. Leneas needed to be the best, or at least, in the top 10, of both. Training was going to be important. He could still remember the techniques passed on by the masters who considered him worthy, but his youthful, still-human body was likely unable to fully leverage on these. 

Friends. The friendship and trust of Archbishop Claudius, Jochi and Dame Raine were enough to persuade the remnants of humanity to back Leneas against the demon invasion. Still, their support came too late for any meaningful victory. He needed them by his side, and early, and potentially the support of anyone else who died before they could come to support him.

Money. There were things the first two could not buy. With money, he could buy equipment. Weapons. And most importantly, prestige and support. If the people sang his name with praises in a year, he could unite their support and present a united front against the demon invasion.

Leneas must have spent at least 10 minutes in silent thought before realising that Cassarah had disappeared into the shop.

"W-wait for me!" he yelled, rushing into the hovel.

----

Sheera Solomon was in her early forties, but a few magical tricks kept her young. She enjoyed her semi-youthful looks, but for appearances' sake in a shady fortune teller's shop, she wore a face-concealing shroud and held her illusionary-wrinkled hands above a crystal ball.

"Tell me... what you seek?" the ragged voice of an old crone asked, never looking up to face her customers. Even if it was Cassarah.